Page 16 of His to Keep (Reluctant Vows #6)

G io

Red-hot fury flashes in Eilidh’s pretty brown eyes and she steps back from me.

“What I thought would happen,” she says angrily, “is that you’d give me a couple of days to adjust to the changes in my life. I thought we’d talk over this marriage idea.”

“Why? There’s nothing to discuss.”

Eyes wide and jaw dropped in disbelief, Eilidh shakes her head. “There is literally everything to discuss, starting with whether there’s any need for us to marry at all.”

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I sigh. I am sick of going over the same ground with her.

Every time I think she’s accepted the marriage will go ahead, she kicks up a fuss again.

Did my brothers have this much trouble with their women in the lead-up to their weddings?

I doubt any of them would have put up with it.

“There’s nothing to discuss, kitten,” I say calmly, trying not to escalate the tension in the room. “You need the protection my name offers and I’m going to give it to you, no matter how much you object.”

Eilidh sniffs haughtily. “If the Volante name is all that matters, why do I have to settle for the runt of the litter? Why can’t I marry one of your cousins? Lorenzo’s pretty hot.”

Oh, this little minx. She’s trying to get a rise out of me, and I refuse to react to the provocation. “I suspect Lorenzo already has his hands full, kitten.”

I congratulate myself on my even tone, especially since it seems to annoy Eilidh that I’m not losing my cool. She pouts, pushing her bottom lip out in a way that makes me want to bite it. “He said he was single.”

The rumors I’ve heard in the family would suggest otherwise. “He must be involved with some other woman, or he wouldn’t have toned down his flirting with you.”

As insufferable as Lorenzo was with Eilidh, he did hold back on the charm offensive.

“That was toned down?” At my nod, Eilidh emits an irritated sound, reminiscent of a horse’s whinny. “Should I be insulted that he didn’t give me the full force of his flirtatiousness?”

“Nah, be grateful. If he’d really dialed it up, I’d have had to smash his face in.”

“You’re such a caveman.”

It’s only when it comes to this woman that I behave so possessively.

Something about her speaks to a primal instinct I didn’t know was inside me.

I need to claim, protect, and, when she steps out of line, punish this woman.

Stamping my ownership on her body won’t be enough, however.

I want her to acknowledge that she’s mine.

“You like my caveman side.” I let my certainty show in a cocky smirk.

Eilidh blushes deeply, which I take as confirmation, but she’s not about to let herself be distracted from what sparked her initial outrage.

“Maybe I do, but that doesn’t give you the right to make decisions about our wedding without telling me. I mean, you arranged a dress for me. Who the fuck does that?”

My brother, Alessandro, for one. He also selected his bride’s dress before he’d even met Emilia in person. Their start may have been unconventional, but their marriage is solid. Eilidh and I can have the same if she’d just give this a chance.

“Tone down the language, Eilidh.”

She glares at me in challenge. “No, I won’t tone down my fucking language and I won’t fucking stay here and listen to your bullshit.”

Knocking against my shoulder, she barges past me. Before she can reach the door, I grab her arm and swing her back toward me. She whirls around, using the momentum to deliver a stinging slap to my cheek. For a moment, we’re both too shocked to react.

“Never hit me again,” I warn, my voice steady despite the rage coursing through me.

“Fuck you!”

Rather than calming down and perhaps apologizing for striking me, Eilidh goes wild.

In an outpouring of anger that catches me completely by surprise, she starts throwing punches.

To prevent her from landing one that will do some real damage and land her in even more trouble, I spin her around, band my arms around her torso, and carry her to the bed.

She struggles furiously, trying to head-butt me.

Though I realize her anger isn’t entirely directed at me, but is born of frustration from years of having her freedom curtailed, I can’t allow this behavior to go unchecked.

Forcing her face down over the bed, I hold her with one hand on her back and use the other to lower her leggings and panties. I smack her ass, hard.

“Ow! You bastard!” Eilidh screeches.

She tries to get up, but I shove her back down and place my knee at the small of her back to prevent further attempts to evade the punishment she’s earned.

“Stop right now or I’ll tie you to the bed, thrash your ass, and then fuck it until you can’t walk for a week.”

The threat seems to do the trick as Eilidh quiets down. I take my belt off and double it over.

Pulling her back so her feet are on the floor and her upper body is on the bed, I get her into the perfect position.

“You will not try to fight like that again.” It’s one thing for her to hit me because I can control myself, but if she loses her mind with someone else the outcome may not be pleasant. “Fifteen strokes, Eilidh, and I want you to count each one.”

Drawing the belt back, I bring it down across the full width of her ass. If she thought I was going to warm her up to this, she’s in for a shock. Eilidh shrieks loudly.

“One!”

I’m surprised she remembered to count. I lay the belt across both butt cheeks again, aiming a little lower this time to create another strip of pink.

“Two.” She reaches back to rub her bottom.

“Hands,” I warn her. If I catch her fingers with the rigid leather strip, I could really hurt her and that’s the last thing I want.

I deliver three more harsh strikes with the belt, and she counts each one, her voice growing hoarser as her cries intensify. Though I hate to hear it, I can’t stop until she’s learned her lesson about lashing out at me.

After the sixth smack with the belt, Eilidh reaches back again to soothe her flesh, which has now turned a vibrant pink.

“Eilidh.”

“I can’t help it,” she sobs. “It hurts.”

“Do you need me to tie you up?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’ll stop.”

For the seventh, eighth, and ninth strokes, she manages to keep her word.

She sniffs back tears as her bottom begins to glow with a deeper red hue than before.

Though her breaths are coming out in short, frantic pants, she maintains enough composure to count.

On the tenth lash of the belt, she rears up from the bed, grabbing her ass.

“I warned you about this, Eilidh.”

Grabbing her wrists, I hold them behind her back with one hand while I scan the room for something to bind them with. There’s nothing obvious, so I resort to using my belt to tie her wrists together. Since she’s already suffering, I reckon finishing off her punishment with my hand will be a mercy.

I slap her ass, and she yelps. “Twelve.”

“Eilidh,” I caution as she calls out the wrong number. “That was the eleventh.”

“Eleven,” she says quietly, before burrowing her face into the bedcovers. I suspect she’s trying to wipe away tears.

I deliver three more spanks in quick succession, and she almost whispers the numbers. Her voice is gravelly now and I feel a twinge of sympathy for her. She wriggles on the bed and emits a moan that suggests pain is not the only thing she’s feeling.

“This is the last one.” I look at her splayed out on the bed. “Spread your legs wider and push your ass out.”

I can see the effort it takes for her to comply. Her movements are slow and a little stiff, but she does as I asked. Taking careful aim, I slap her as hard as I can between her legs.

“Fifteen!” Eilidh wails. Tears stream down her cheeks, but when I pull my hand away, my fingers are coated with her arousal. A part of her, however well hidden inside her, enjoyed the punishment.

I flip her onto her back, and she hisses as her poor, punished bottom hits the mattress. She stares up at me with watery eyes and downturned lips, the very image of dejection.

“What have you learned?”

“You’re an…” As my jaw clenches, she takes a beat to reconsider her answer. “I’m not to hit you again.”

“Or anyone else,” I tell her. “Another man might not show my restraint.”

“Restraint?”

“That could have gone much worse for you.” I let her absorb that for a moment. “Now, do you want me to make you feel better?”

She shakes her head. Little liar. She’s desperate for my touch, but unwilling to ask for it. I slide a hand between her legs, feeling how slick she is.

“Are you sure about that?”

“No, I don’t want… ah!” Her objection flies out of the window as I tease her engorged clit.

She wriggles desperately when I push two fingers into her tight channel and curl them, locating that sensitive spot inside her.

“How does that feel?” I ask as I stroke her while pressing my thumb against her clitoris. “Should I stop?”

“No, don’t stop.” Her words are a breathless plea.

As I continue to caress her g-spot, I watch her face closely. Her eyes glaze over with desire as her mouth falls open. It’s an incredibly erotic sight. I pump my fingers in and out of her, reveling in her gasps and moans.

“Please, Gio, please, I…” She raises her hips, pressing herself against the heel of my palm as I fuck her with my fingers.

“Such a responsive little kitten,” I murmur. “Come for me like a good girl.”

Her body clenches around my fingers, shoved deep inside her. I pull them out of her and watch as she bucks her hips once, twice, three times, and then collapses on the bed, her legs quivering.

I press my fingers, coated in her fluids, to her lips. “Clean the mess you made,” I command.

Eilidh opens her mouth wide and wraps her lips around my fingers, sucking and licking, making sure to get every drop of her arousal.

My cock twitches, but I resist the urge to plunge it into her snug pussy.

She looks thoroughly spent and I need her to be able to stand before a priest tonight and say her vows.

“Come here, kitten.” Pulling my fingers from her mouth, I sit on the bed next to Eilidh and help her up. “Let me untie you.”

I untie the belt and examine each of her wrists.

They’re a little red, even though she didn’t struggle against her bonds.

I kiss the marks the leather left on her skin.

Eilidh rests her head on my chest, seeking comfort I’m only too willing to give.

I wrap my arm around her shoulders and hold her tight as she starts to cry, purging whatever emotions are running through her right now.

“You want to take a nap?” I ask when she finally quiets.

“Aye.” She swipes at her cheeks, drying the tears. “That would be nice.”

She winces as I pull her to her feet, but doesn’t complain.

I draw back the covers and she crawls into bed.

Laying her head on the pillow, she looks impossibly young.

I’m only four years older, but right now, I feel like decades lie between us.

Despite all she’s been through, Eilidh retains an innocence.

It’s up to me to shield her from the worst harms the world could yet inflict.

“Get some sleep,” I tell her. “I’ll send Rosalia up in a couple of hours to help you get ready.”

“Okay.” Eilidh’s agreement surprises me. “I won’t fight you anymore.”

As she closes her eyes, I turn and leave the room.

I need to call Antonio to update him on the situation and find out if there’s any news from Niamh about the men who’re no doubt searching for us.

Eilidh may have agreed not to fight me, but until I know we’re safe, I won’t be able to let my guard down. Not for a second.